Shadowhunter Love
by mia95
Summary: When Maryse Lightwood discovers her husband is cheating on her with an old friend... Okay, I am officially THE WORST at summaries. Never mind.
1. Answers

Maryse Lightwood pulled her coat tightly around her as she ventured into the night. As she walked through the cold snow Maryse pocketed her stele, the silencing rune she had drawn on the palm of her bare hand doing its job. She made no sound as she crunched through the snow underfoot.

Ahead of her, Maryse's husband Robert was hunched against the cold. She followed him around the back of the apartment they shared and past the church where they were married. He stepped into the glamoured Shadowhunter cemetery in the shadow of the church. Maryse followed. Robert had been out every night this week, what with his sister sick and the trouble with the Downworlder club on Fifth Avenue. She had questioned none of this until she decided to pay the Downworlder club a little visit. After scouring the streets for hours, Maryse had returned home, adamant in her belief the Downworlder club did not exist. Robert had lied to her.

Maryse tripped over a small, dark and obviously Downworlder headstone. _Here lies Tessa Gray, warlock and friend of the Nephilim,_ it said. That next to it was marked in the same curling script, _and here lies William Herondale, the beloved Shadowhunter companion of Miss Gray, and her loving spouse in the end_. The years on the headstones said Tessa and William were hardly eighteen when they died. _How good it must have been,_ thought Maryse, _to know at such a young age that you love someone, and that your feelings are returned by that person._ Maryse and Robert had married early, even for Shadowhunters, who tended to marry in their youth, as they generally did not live an extraordinarily long time, yet she had always doubted him, and their relationship was not one built on trust.

She looked up as a spiraling light shone suddenly before her. Robert's thin figure was clearly visible in front of his Portal. He stepped through it and Maryse slipped discreetly in after him. She needed answers.

Maryse's chest expanded, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off her, as she stepped out of the portal. She saw, much to her surprise, that she was standing in the large, lavish foyer of Annamarie Highbury, her dear friend and coveted member of the Clave. She saw the door ahead of her swing shut behind Robert. _He must be here on Clave business,_ thought Maryse. _There is simply no other explanation._ If she truly believed that, Maryse would have left Annamarie's house right then, but something held her back. She needed to know why she had gone searching for a nonexistent club, why Robert was so squeamish around the children these days. Every time little Alec neared his father, the latter became odd and withdrawn, and he hardly ever looked at baby Isabelle in her crib.

Maryse loved her children more than any other woman could. Alec, with his dark hair and blue eyes, looked so like Maryse's brother, and Izzy's baby photos were easily mistaken with those of her mother. Alec, at least, could tell there was something wrong with his father, and Maryse pushed herself forward and through the door, knowing that Alec deserved to know what was going on. And if Robert's behavior was sending his two-year old's sixth sense tingling, maybe she should know what was going on, too.

Maryse slid into a dark room off the foyer. She could hear voices coming from another door that, she knew, led into Annamarie's bedroom. Highbury Manor had been in the family for several generations, and had been the site of many a wild sleepover when Maryse was young. She knew the layout of this building like the back of her hand.


	2. Betrayal

Maryse took out her stele and traced an invisibility rune on her forearm. Slowly she pushed the door open just enough for her slim body to fit through. The sight that met her was not a pleasant one. She saw thin, beautiful Annamarie with Robert, kissing him fiercely. Maryse stared. Thank the Angel for her silencing rune, for she had let out an audible gasp.

She drew a line with her stele over the invisibility rune, maiming it enough to ruin its effect. Robert pushed Annamarie away as Maryse flickered into view. "Maryse" he said. His tone was not regretful, only slightly surprised. Annamarie, on the other hand, was gaping, mouth working like that of a fish. Maryse gazed upon her stunned face with contempt.

"Hello, Anna, dear. How are you this fine evening?" Annamarie Highbury, respected and honored by so many Nephilim, looked as though she had been slapped in the face by a Ravener demon wearing a wig and doing ballet. It was, in Maryse's opinion, really quite entertaining. "Mary..." Annamarie looked upon her old friend sadly. "Do not call me that," said Maryse sharply. "Only my friends call me Mary."

Anna regretted what she had done, Maryse knew, and she couldn't blame this other woman for her husband's being unfaithful. But her anger came from somewhere she couldn't control; somewhere her Shadowhunter training to use logic couldn't reach. She wrenched her eyes from Annamarie's stricken face, and trained them instead on Robert.

He gazed at her calmly. "Maryse. Perhaps we should talk elsewhere." As he spoke, Maryse felt the familiar constriction in her throat, as if she had stepped into a Portal. It was the same way she felt every time Robert looked at her, the tightness she had felt since they had first met in Idris. She still loved him, she realized with a jolt. No matter what Robert Lightwood did, she would always love him. She realized this as she stood in the room with her husband and his mistress, and wished she had never felt such thing as love.

"Very well," Maryse fought to keep her voice steady. She drew a Portal and stepped through it. Moments later her and Robert were standing in their cramped kitchen. She glared at him. "Explain yourself." Robert regarded her with an expression as docile as that of a sleeping kitten. "Maryse. I have been seeing Annamarie for a year now, and I have been with her every night this week. All that you could have figured out yourself. What more is there to explain?" There was no regret in his tone, only a bitter emptiness. Maryse was shocked. "A _year_," she gasped. "For an entire year you went around with Anna behind my back. An entire year, in which your second child was born, and your mistress _attended the baby shower!_' Her voice rose to a shout. "You were unfaithful and are not ashamed of it! What about the children?" She sobbed into her hands.

Robert's expression was unchanged. "What about the children, Maryse?" Maryse managed to straighten herself up enough to reply. "They can't have a father who cheats! They can't know of this!" Robert nodded. "Then I will never tell them." This was not the answer Maryse had expected. "And what of Annamarie?" She asked. "I will not see Anna again, because it is only appropriate, but I want you to know this, Maryse: I love her. I will always love her. And always, I will love her more than I ever loved you."

And with that, he walked out of the room.


	3. Ten Years Later

**Ten Years Later**

Maryse Lightwood watched as the Wayland boy made his way up the Institute steps. Maryse was still surprised to call the New York Institute hers, though the Clave had pronounced it so more than two years ago. Her and Robert now ran the Institute, but Maryse doubted the Clave would have given it to them had they known what her husband had done. Troubled families did not make good leaders. Maryse had told no one about her husband's infraction, other than Jocelyn Morgenstern. She had always seemed to understand her more than the other members of the circle, even though she was wed to Valentine. Robert, too, had adhered to his promise.

The young boy reached the doors where Maryse stood. He stared at the ground, though he walked with a rolling swagger that said, _I can rule the world if I want to._ He had an air of arrogance to him, although he was quite timid-looking at the moment. He did not at all evoke the memory of Michael Wayland in Maryse's mind; he seemed quite a different person than his late father. "Hello, ma'am," he said politely," I'm Jace Wayland. I was told to meet a Maryse Lightwood."

Maryse looked down at the boy kindly. "I am Maryse. Welcome to the Institute." She had been told that the boy was named Jonathan, however the Clave might have disregarded the fact that the boy went by a nickname. They did not stand for the shortening of the official.

Maryse let Izzy show Jace around the Institute. She thought perhaps her daughter would take a liking to the boy; so far her theory had been proved wrong. Isabelle glared at the newcomer with open dislike, sometimes even hostility. Maryse could not fathom why. Isabelle had grown up to be an independent, strong-headed girl, rather like Maryse.

Maryse was standing in the dining room, thinking about the circle's most recent ventures, when Isabelle walked in behind her. "Mommy?" Maryse turned around. "Yes, Isabelle?' Izzy looked up at her questioningly. "Why are you so sad Jace is here?" Maryse was stunned. "Sad? I'm not sad! Why would I be sad, Iz?" Isabelle just looked at her. "You are sad, Mommy." Maryse sighed. "I'm sad because I'm putting another child in the care of your father." She couldn't stand that she had given that horrible man three children of his own, and now another to be adopted. "What did Daddy do?" The question was not an innocent one; it was one of a person whose suspicions had been confirmed.

Maryse looked her darling Isabelle straight in the eyes as she said, "Your father saw another woman. Before Max was born. Iz nodded gravely. "Who?" Isabelle had never known Annamarie; after the incident she and Maryse had never spoken again. "It doesn't matter now. It's the past. It will never matter again."


	4. Battle in Alicante

**In Idris**

Maryse Lightwood ran through the streets of the glass city. She came upon Highbury manor, doused in demon blood. She knocked at the door. As Maryse had predicted, Annamarie was home, and she answered the door. She looked shocked to see her there.

"Maryse! Come in!" Maryse obligingly stepped inside. "Hello, Anna. I come bearing grave news." Anna looked down at the ground. "Another death?" Maryse smiled. "Yes, in fact it is yours."

And Maryse lunged, drawing the blade with its demonic alliance she had had crafted specially for this purpose. To kill an Angel.

The blade sunk to its hilt in Annamarie's chest. She screamed, then Maryse retracted the blade. A tear leaked from her eye. "No one will miss you in this chaos, Anna. All you will be is another victim of the battle. Rest in peace."

**THE END**


End file.
